


Coney Island

by InNeedOfInspiration



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, F/M, Skinny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNeedOfInspiration/pseuds/InNeedOfInspiration
Summary: Drabbles: AU set in the past. Five attractions Steve and Natasha tried at Coney Island.





	Coney Island

**Author's Note:**

> Just some gratuitous fluff. Hope you enjoy it!

Steve sulked silently almost the whole journey, warily eyeing from time to time the extra passenger. They had planned this trip to Coney Island amusement park for a week, and he and Bucky had been supposed to have hell lot of fun.

But that was until he fell while playing baseball in school and twisted his ankle. Mrs Barnes had refused to let him go, and Steve's mom deemed it a good idea to invite their other neighbor, that red-haired girl he knew was called Natasha. She and her parents had moved into the building just a couple of months before, and all he knew about them was that the parents hardly spoke any English. Mrs Romanoff had seemed first surprised by Sarah Rogers' visit but had welcomed the invitation to take her daughter out for the day with enthusiasm.

"Thank you for having me today, Mrs Rogers," Natasha had uttered with impeccable politeness when she came knocking on their door. She had then flicked behind her to look at Steve.

"Here we are. Let the fun begin," Sarah Rogers exclaimed after she turned off the engine in the busy parking lot.

Yeah, well. Steve wasn't so sure about that.

They made their way to the park and Steve stayed in reassuring proximity to his mother and at a safe distance from the strange girl. Sarah often checked that her son was well protected from the sun and heat. She would gently press her hand on his cap, as a quiet exhortation to keep it, and take the tube of sunscreen out of her bag to put on his face.

"Mom," he wailed quietly, feeling the large green eyes of Natasha watching him. "I'm okay!"

Sarah frowned. She had seen her son get sunstroke more than once to know she couldn't leave anything to chance. And she also noticed how his body stiffened and how he would nervously wrap one leg around the other whenever he became the center of attention, including of their young neighbor's.

She shook her head and snorted. "I'm sorry. You're right!"

She opened her purse and put a nickel in the small palm of his hand. "The queue is long. How about you and Natasha go to the shooting range while I buy us some ice creams?"

She gave him an encouraging push towards the girl. He shuffled across to the attraction, closely followed by his neighbor. He paid the carny who gave them plastic pistols.

"You shoot 3 frogs down and you can leave with a toy," the man said sluggishly, repeating instructions he had given more than he could count.

Steve shrugged. The stake would have been far funnier if it had been him and Bucky.

He and Natasha each raised their guns and aimed at the cardboard frogs. He shot and took one down. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She pulled the trigger with an impassible expression and shot one down, too.

She made it look easy. He blamed it on luck.

She slightly steered the pistol to the right and shot again, taking another frog down. He felt excitement brew inside. She eyed him expectantly. He aimed at another frog and toppled it.

One to go.

They both stood tall and concentrated on their target, a playful smile rising to their lips. They pulled the triggers and hit simultaneously the same frog out of the remaining five standing.  

The winning bell went off. "Congrats, kids!" The carny exclaimed with newfound enthusiasm.

Steve put the pistol and mustered some courage to turn to her. "Not too bad...for a girl."

She cocked an eyebrow and gazed at him challengingly. "Not too bad for a boy."

They chuckled together, and suddenly the rest of the day took a brighter prospect. 

* * *

"I beat you Rogers and now you must do as I say for the whole week — that was the deal!" she bragged smugly.

Years had passed and Steve had become a teenager, who looked a lot smaller than his actual age which didn't exactly help to become popular. He had very few friends, and Natasha was the only female one he had. Other girls seemed to avoid him like the plague.

"Of course you would win, Nat. I had little to no chance to win the hammer game," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Then why did you challenge me to it?" she asked with a smirk.

"Because I do stupid things. Buck says I do that a lot."

"Bucky says a lot of bull," she conceded. "But sometimes, in the continuous flux of inanities that come out of his mouth, some truth —like some scarce outburst — slips out."

He looked daggers at her and her loud laughter rang out around them. She slipped her arm under his and pulled him along.

They walked by a psychic reading stall. She pressed her hand on his shoulder to make him halt.

"Since you always wonder what the future holds for you, here's your chance to know. Take the shot," she purred as she pivoted his body towards the stall.

The medium was seated at her table, waiting for brave (or reckless) customers.

"Please, _that_ is bull. Even more so than the kind Bucky delivers."

"Good. So you won't be afraid of what she might have to tell you, then." She paused and playfully tapped her fingers on his arm. "Come on, Rogers. Don't be a wuss. And remember our deal: you must do everything I say."

He let out a sigh. "You're only into this stuff because you're Russian," he mumbled before starting towards the stall. Natasha squealed with excitement.

He paid the seer and sat on the chair across from her, while Natasha came to sit on the chair next to him.

"May I see your hand?" the woman, dressed in all the folkloric apparel, asked.

He complied. She looked closely at the lines on his palm.

"You have poor health," she began. He discreetly rolled his eyes. Where could she have got that from? His small build or the noticeable paleness and dark circles on his face? "You are a brave boy. So brave," she continued. "And you will grow to become a brave man. You will achieve great things, which will earn you much love from people and more adversaries along your journey."

He furrowed his brows. As pleasant as the tale sounded, he hardly believed it could somewhat become true. She had probably fed many other young, hopeful hearts, with this story.

"Would you look at that," the psychic mused out loud. She traced one of his lines with her finger. "There is a great love in your life. One that is pure and selfless. Boundless and strong. It will only belong to you to take it."

She took her eyes off of his palm and looked up. Her pupils flicked between them. She smiled sneakily. "Or maybe you have already found it."

Her eyes traveled once more between them. A cringe rose on both their faces. That put an end to the reading.

They both got up in heavy silence, haunted by the ominous revelation made to them.

After many steps away from the stall to start to release from its negative, daunting influence, Natasha cleared her throat.

"You know, what? You were right. It is utter bull."

And he couldn't agree more.

* * *

March 1936. The sunny days had begun to spring, but everything was so heavy and dull. Colorless.

It had been her idea to come to Coney Island to take his mind off the last event and finally get him out of the apartment. He couldn't say no to her. He never could.

Natasha was walking alongside him, just as silent and grim. She often threw glances at him in concern and care, sorrow painted across her features.

It was a weekday and the park was not as frequented as they knew it to be. Most of the rides were still and the game stalls empty.

Steve hadn't noticed. He was heedlessly gazing ahead with a numb expression. Watching him like this turned the broken pieces of her heart into crumbles. She glanced upwards and saw the Ferris wheel in the distance.

She took him to it and slipped a bill into the hand of the employee. He gave her a nod, and she went back to Steve and pulled him to fill the seats. She put down the safety bar around them and the Ferris wheel started its revolution.

Soon they reached the top with an incomparable view over the island. She turned to him.

"Steve, talk to me." She pleaded softly. "You're safe up here with me. It's just the two of us."

His pupils quivered. "Will the pain I feel right now ever wane?"

Her eyes filled with water and she shook her head. She slipped her fingers between his and squeezed his hand as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"It will," she murmured. "I swear to you it will."

He slowly turned to look at her. "But I don't think I want it to. This pain, this is all I have left of her."

She lifted his hand to her face and kissed it before safely wrapping it under her chin. "You have so much better than that. You have all your memories and all her love to carry with you. This is what your mother would want you to treasure and to remember her by."

"It's hard to concentrate on those right now."

She nodded. "I know," she answered with a shaky voice. "But you will come through. And I'll be with you until you do."

He dove his eyes into hers. "Promise?" he asked.

She leaned in and laid a long, affectionate kiss on his forehead. She then pressed her forehead against his, cupped his cheek and breathed in quietly.

"I promise."

She bit her lower lip, holding back a whimper and pulled away.

"I don't think I'm ready to come back down yet," he said. The reality down there had never seemed so unappealing and terrifying. Up here in the sky, it seemed the burden across his shoulders wasn't so heavy to carry. Up here near the clouds, he felt closer to his mother.

"It's okay. We can stay here as long as you want," she whispered meekly.

Their fingers still intertwined, she laid her head on his shoulder and, in that comforting silence, watched the sun go down in the horizon.

* * *

 Coney Island was busy as ever, and you wouldn't have noticed the decrease in the male population. Children laughed, music played, entertainers were doing the show: this would have looked like a normal day in America if it weren’t for the country officially joining the World War.

Steve and Natasha walked through the oblivious and carefree crowd around them. The park hadn't changed much, and neither had he technically. He was still a small boy with a few friends. His company, however, was no longer like that little girl he had shot cardboard frogs with. Natasha had become a woman — a dazzling woman — whose beauty and confidence made the neck of every man in a large radius spin to get a closer look at.

He could feel the different looks on them. The look of those staring at her in admiration; the look of men unabashedly lusting after her; the puzzled look of those who couldn't understand how a gorgeous woman like her could be in the company of an introverted, frail-looking man like him.

Natasha was either unaware of the former, or she didn't care. Despite the flagrant change her body had gone through, she still remained his childhood friend, the Russian neighbor from upstairs. She never held herself back or reconsidered before slipping her arm under his or fondly resting her head on his shoulder.

Lately, Steve had been thinking a lot about the war and the kind of contribution he wanted to make to help the cause. Bucky had just told them he was going to enroll, and ever since, the idea of doing it as well, wouldn't let go of him.

"What if they laugh at me? No one will take me seriously if I turn up to the enrollment office," he asked.

"Since when do you care?" Natasha answered. "You're worth a hundred of their men and they would be stupid not to see it."

"I wish it were that simple," he said.

"Things are never simple. That's what makes success so valuable. Not everyone is cut out for it."

"And you think I am?" he asked ironically, arching an eyebrow.

She glanced behind her shoulder.

He followed her to the crane claw machine nearby. She flipped a coin at him.

"Let's settle this once and for all," she said, leaning against the machine. "If you catch the stuffed animal, you go to the enrollment office and submit your application."

Steve furrowed his brows. "Nobody ever catches anything."

She shrugged. "Good, then you have nothing to lose."

He looked at her closely, standing in a confident posture, as she challenged him with a smirk. He took a deep breath in and stepped forward.

He slipped the coin into the slot and clasped the handle. Natasha came to stand behind him.

He maneuvered the handle up, then to the right, his eyes fixed on the toy. He felt nervous when he pressed the button for release, somewhat fearful of the outcome.

The claw descended and captured the stuffed animal. It lifted it up and slowly began carrying it back to the slot. Natasha excitedly squeezed his shoulder.

The claws opened, releasing the toy right into the hatch, while a piece of music rang out and the little colorful lights shone.

They both let out a squeal of excitement and he proudly collected his prize.

"Looks like someone is dropping application papers on Monday," she commented smugly.

After many rejected applications but a lot of determination, Steve Rogers joined the Army. The stuffed animal lay on the pillow of his camp bed as a memento. 

* * *

Things had changed a lot. He no longer looked like the man he used to be. He was serving his country and he loved being Captain America. After yet another successful mission, he had been given permission to go home for a week. The long-awaited reunion with his best friend was also the occasion for a new trip to Coney Island.

Steve blended in with the lively crowd. Dressed in his formal military uniform, he looked like any soldier in permission. Natasha was wearing a navy flare dress with short heels, her wavy hair casually tied up in a bun that gave her a charming natural look.

"So how many pounds of meat do you eat in a day?" she teased.

He snorted. "You're making fun of me."

She drew a cross over her heart. "Never. It's just that your new appearance calls for some reasonable adaptation period."

"You're just secretly jealous you're no longer the taller one," he chimed in with an amused smile.

"I am livid, indeed."

They both chuckled, and she slipped her arm under his like she often did.

"How's life here?" he asked.

"It's okay," she answered evasively. "There isn't much going on around here. Everything revolves around the war. And I miss my best friend."

He paused to look at her. "I miss you, too. Terribly."

She rolled her eyes. "You're a bad liar."

They approached the photo booth and saw as a couple collect their pictures from the slot before walking away.

Natasha took his hand and pulled him towards the booth. "Follow me if you dare," she purred. Her smile was irresistibly enticing.

He nodded and let himself be led into the booth. He sat on the stool and she weightlessly settled herself on his lap — his heartbeat slightly quickened.

She flipped her head the opposite way, filling his nostrils with her inebriating perfume as she slipped a coin into the slot. The booth activated and she pulled herself closer to him while he secured her by wrapping an arm around her waist.

Her breathing seemed to deepen, letting air in between her full, red lips. His eyes swept across her unreservedly.

"Steve," she hummed his name.

The first click went off. Her green eyes compelled him completely. She haltingly leaned in — her warm, honeyed breath, tickled his face. He closed his eyes. She eventually brushed her lips against his, capturing them in the most docile touch. It was fascinating how his mouth was perfectly molded to fit hers. He felt a flutter in his core.

The second click went off.

She gently pulled away and looked him deep in the eye.

"I love you," she whispered and she stroked his face with her fingers. "I think I have loved you from the moment I watched that insolent little American boy eye me obnoxiously all the ride along my first Coney Island trip."

He gulped down nervously and she swept her eyes across him and smiled. "It's a little bizarre to adjust to the new sight but I know the frail-looking boy I am fond of isn't gone. He's just somewhere under all that muscle mass."

He cut her in with a kiss. Long and ardent. With his hand on the small of her back, he pulled her closer and she pressed herself against him, as a longing moan escaped her lips.

The third click went off.

She parted her lips and let him deepen the kiss as she ran her fingers through his hair. He laid a trail of heated kisses down her throat, and she clutched the collar of his uniform between her fingers, gasping for air.

The fourth click went off. He stopped, panting too, then smiled to himself. He pressed a chaste kiss on her throat.

"We should probably hurry before someone gets their hands on our pictures."

She chuckled, took a deep breath in as she regained composure. She pressed her forehead against his and bit her lip.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I got carried away. It's just...I want you, all of you."

"Don’t be. I know the feeling," he murmured with a smile. "But not here, not like this. No matter how romantic this place screams."

She laughed softly.

She put her feet down on the floor and stood up. They both stepped out of the booth, rearranging their clothes and looking flushed.

The pictures came out and they looked at them with a conniving, guilty giggle.

"Who said amusement parks were only amusing for children?" she said, and the corner of her mouth rose.


End file.
